


German Hideaway

by chaostheoryy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bar Room Brawl, Berlin (City), CONTAINS SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR CIVIL WAR, M/M, Prompt Fill, Protective Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7088356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaostheoryy/pseuds/chaostheoryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Steve and Sam track Bucky down in Berlin following the incident with Zemo, the three fugitives decide to lay low along the outskirts of the city. However, when things turn sour at a local bar, keeping a low profile may be harder than any of them imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	German Hideaway

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for an anon over on my Tumblr who requested the following: Steve and Bucky go to a bar in a random city where nobody will recognize them because they need to let off some steam. Steve gets hit on by some douchebag of a guy but can't fight back because he doesn't want to reveal who he is. Bucky loses it and blows his cover to save his boyfriend while kicking the other guy's ass in the process.

Traveling undercover had grown quite difficult for Steve Rogers, especially after the entire world had declared him a dangerous criminal for aiding in the escape of Bucky Barnes. Now he not only had to worry about himself, but he had to make sure Bucky and Sam were undetected as well. After ensuring that they weren't being tracked and that Bucky was back to normal, Steve set out in search of a safe location to rest for the night. They ended up inside of an old ten room hostel on the outskirts of the city where Steve was almost certain no member of Ross's force would find them.  
  
"So what now?" Sam asked once they were locked in their room.  
  
Steve placed his hands on his hips and looked out the grimey window at the darkening street. "I don't know. But we've got to do something. Tony's not going to rest until we sign those accords and Ross will do everything in his power to take Bucky down."  
  
"Steve," Bucky began, looking up at his longtime companion from the faded chair in the corner of the room, "You can't fight them all by yourself. Especially not just because of me."  
  
Steve opened his mouth to argue but Sam spoke up first, eyes bright as if a light bulb had just been illuminated in his head. "Wait, wait. He's got a point," he said, "We can't do this ourselves. But maybe we won't have to." He tilted his head slightly, a hesitant expression making its way onto his face. "I know a guy."  
  
After much assurance and firm glances, Sam managed to convince Steve to take Bucky to the bar down the street to have a drink while he contacted his assets back in the States. It was a filthy old dive with peeling walls and lopsided chairs, but it certainly wasn't rundown enough to keep the locals out. In fact, to Steve's surprise, it was packed. There were people squished into every corner, playing pool and practically inhaling pint after pint of beer.  
  
Dressed in his go-to disguise of t-shirt, jacket, glasses, and baseball cap, Steve directed Bucky over to a table in the back before making his way to the bar to order.  
  
"Can I get two pints of your house beer?" He asked.  
  
The bartender gave him a once-over, his thick eyebrows furrowed. "Long ways from home aren't you?"  
  
Steve gave him a slight smile, pleased that the man behind the counter spoke English remarkably well. "Change of command at work has led to more travel," he said which, ironically enough, was true.  
  
"You are with the military then?"  
  
"The United States Army," Steve replied with a nod. Also not a total lie.  
  
"Well," the bartender began as he finished filling up the two glasses, "Welcome to Berlin. These are on me, for you and your companion."  
  
Steve took a hold of the glasses and gave him a bright, appreciative smile. "Danke," he thanked before heading over to the table in the back where Bucky had been silently awaiting him.  
  
"Does he know?" Bucky inquired quietly when Steve sat down.  
  
"No. He thinks we're a couple of Army men in town. Nothing to worry about."  
  
Steve watched as Bucky's eyes wandered the room. His stern expression and dark eyes reminded him far too much of a predator scanning its surroundings before it chowed down on its latest kill. It was, oddly enough, a strange mixture of the Winter Soldier and the Bucky Barnes he knew back in Brooklyn. Bucky had always been on the look out for people trying to pick on Steve. And anytime some idiot bully would try to beat up the gutsy little blond, Bucky would be right there to kick the holy crap out of them.  
  
"Buck," Steve murmured softly as he noticed Bucky's fist clench when a man across the room shouted in anger because he missed his target playing darts, "Relax. We're safe for now."  
  
Bucky's droopy eyes were drawn away from the stranger and landed on Steve. "We're never going to be safe," he said sternly, "Not as long as I'm around."  
  
Steve furrowed his brow. He hated what Hydra had done to him. They had used him, turned him into a murdering machine who could wipe out entire squadrons of trained soldiers. But the worst part of it all was that Bucky had grown to hate himself. He was in constant fear that he would lose control of himself and hurt everyone around him, even the people he cared about. Even Steve...  
  
"Look," Steve countered without hesitation, "I know you're not proud of what the Winter Soldier has done. But that wasn't _you_ , Buck. You would never-"  
  
"But I did! I did all those things! Sure I didn't want to," he hissed in self-loathing, "But that doesn't erase the fact that I've done so much damage in the name of the very organization you and I set out to destroy. Steve, I'm..." He lowered his head, glaring at the back of his glove, beneath which was the metal hand that had been the weapon behind the murder of several dozens of human souls. "I'm a monster." He suddenly stood up and tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm going to get some air."  
  
"Bucky," Steve murmured as he watched his companion head out the door. As much as he wanted to follow after him and talk some sense into him, he wasn't entirely sure that's what Bucky needed now. Perhaps letting him take a walk and clear his mind was the best thing to do.  
  
Steve sighed and stared at the empty chair across from him. Sitting alone in the back of some worn down bar in Germany, Steve couldn't help but remember the empty feeling that had consumed him after he had lost Bucky during the war. And right now, the weight on his shoulders and the hollowness he felt inside made him feel as though he was losing him all over again. Then again, did he ever get him back in the first place?  
  
"You look like you could use another drink, Amerikaner."  
  
Steve looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered German soldier no older than 27 standing beside him with two pints in hand. The man flashed Steve a smile and placed one of the drinks down on the table before taking the empty seat.  
  
"Thanks," Steve mumbled with a half-hearted smile.  
  
"It's my pleasure," the German replied, his accent thick but smooth. "Now tell me why a handsome man like you is sitting alone in the back of a shitty bar like this. Hm?" The man raised his brow, his charming smile practically lighting up the room.  
  
Steve let out a hoarse huff and rubbed his thumb along the top of his glass. "Long story short: I've lost the trust of just about everyone I've ever cared about and those who remain by my side deserve better than the man I've become." All remnants of a smile faded from his face and his eyes stared vacantly at the amber liquid in front of him. He never wanted this. He never wanted to fight with Tony, never wanted to see Sam risk his life and his dignity to fight alongside him. The Avengers were falling apart and he was to blame.  
  
"Hey now," the German cooed as he reached across the table to lay his hand over Steve's, "This is not the expression I should see on such a pretty face. I tell you what..." He placed his pint down on the table as he stood and walked over to Steve. "I will make sure that you do not feel sad the rest of the night." He pushed Steve's chair back slightly and maneuvered himself to sit on his lap. "What do you say, Hübscher?"  
  
Every muscle in Steve's body tightened and his eyes went wide. "N-no, that's alright," he stuttered hesitantly, "I'll be fine on my own."  
  
But the man in his lap felt otherwise. "Come on now, Amerikaner," he whispered in Steve's ear, "I want you to feel good..."  
  
Steve inhaled sharply as the man's lips pressed against his neck. The warmth of his breath and the weight on his thighs felt disarmingly wonderful but the moment his tongue began tracing the outline of his Adam's apple, Steve couldn't accept it anymore.  
  
"No," Steve shouted and pushed the man back.  
  
The German's charming, seductive grin gave way to a frown and his eyes grew dark with lust. "No? Why that is not acceptable, Amerikaner."  
  
Steve swallowed and tried to escape from beneath the man's weight only to have his wrists held firmly behind the back of his chair. His heart began pounding in his chest and his eyes widened as he stared into the face of his harasser. The man was strong. Very strong. There was no way he could get out of this situation without making it known who he was. Because if he broke free and sent the man flying across the room with a super human punch, no one would believe he was just an Army boy anymore.  
  
"Stop fighting, pretty boy," the German whispered, "You're not getting out from my grasp. And you're little boyfriend isn't coming back to get you."  
  
Steve clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he held back the temptation to throw the man off and out the window. He needed an opening, an opportunity to take the man down without using his strength. But how in the world was he going to do that?  
  
Suddenly the man was lifted out of his lap, eyes wide in confusion. Steve's brow furrowed before he caught sight of Bucky, whose left hand was firmly grasping the back of the German's collar.  
  
"Guess again, arschloch," Bucky growled before planting his fist in the man's jaw and sending him stumbling into the wall. He didn't even wait for the man to recover or retaliate before he was on him again, his fist being driven into his stomach over and over again. "Don't you ever touch him again!" Bucky roared, "Do you hear me? Never!"  
  
Everyone in the bar, including Steve, watched in horror as Bucky beat the man senseless. It was wrong to assault him so thoroughly, Steve knew that, but he was in awe. This wasn't the Winter Soldier. This was James Buchanan Barnes. This was the man from his youth fighting to protect the skinny blond kid from Brooklyn who had too much guts for his own good. This was _his_ Bucky.  
  
Once Steve saw the man coughing up blood, he stepped in and placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Buck," he murmured softly, "That's enough."  
  
Bucky immediately froze and his blue eyes found Steve's. He let go of the German in front of him, both of them watching as he crumbled to the floor like a rag doll with blood oozing from his nose and lip. The pair exchanged a long gaze, both of them having so much to say yet refusing to utter a word. Bucky swallowed and turned, grabbing Steve by the hand and pulling him along toward the door. He paused briefly in front of the bar, dropping a stack of cash on the worn wood. "Sorry about the mess," he mumbled. They then slipped out of the building and hustled down the street. The last thing they needed was to be in the middle of the pub when the cops showed up.

Taking advantage of having his hand wrapped up in Bucky's, Steve pulled back, redirecting them down a dark alley where the only living soul in sight was a black cat bobbing through the trash in search of food. They both paused, their breathing quick from both the running and the adrenaline that had coursed through their veins during the beating. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. They simply stared at each others, eyes illuminated ever so slightly by a distant street lamp.

"That guy was an ass," Bucky finally said, breaking the silence.

Steve couldn't stifle his laughter no matter how hard he tried. His smile was as wide as it had ever been in a long time and his chuckle echoed through the alley as he leaned his head back against the wall behind him. "Yeah," he replied once his laughter subsided, "He really was."

For the first time in decades, a soft smile pulled at the corner of Bucky's mouth and in an instant Steve felt as if he were a 16 year old kid back in Brooklyn. That was the boy he had found sanctuary in when his parents had passed. That was the boy he had fallen in love with over and over again each day they were side by side. That was his Bucky.

Without a word, Steve stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky. His companion tensed for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the affection. But it didn't take long before a pair of firm arms were wrapped around Steve as well and a gentle voice whispered in his ear, "I've missed you."


End file.
